


I've Been There

by ABTwrites



Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Clean Cait, Drunken Kissing, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, Fluff and Angst, Grief/Mourning, Mildly Dubious Consent, Nora got killed and Piper saw it, Past Drug Addiction, Past Drug Use, cait trying really REALLY hard to be a decent person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-01
Updated: 2019-10-13
Packaged: 2020-06-02 09:13:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,795
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19438402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ABTwrites/pseuds/ABTwrites
Summary: Piper's grief-drinking. Cait, recently clean, tries to be a halfway decent person, but finds herself being tested.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Something fast. I wanted to explore reasonable situations where Cait and Piper could relate to each other. Might continue, if people ask me to.

This wasn’t good. Cait sniffed and tried to snatch the whiskey bottle out of the girl’s hand, but Piper, in all of her drunk stupor, was faster.

“Not that I ain’t a fan of you loosening up darlin’, but you’re gonna haveta slow down.”

She grimaced at her and defiantly took another swig.

“No stop til morning,” she laughed, cheeks dark with inebriation.

"You couldn'ta picked a less dangerous place to get smashed?"

Piper ignored her, getting too close to the edge of the roof for comfort. Probably just to piss her off more. The redhead sighed loudly, tapping her fingers against her hip. She was not equipped to deal with this, especially in light of her own life.

“Look, I get the need to bury to all. Alright? But this is getting out of hand. Yer gonna kill yerself at this rate.” She went for the bottle again, catching it by the neck. Piper’s face dropped from a gleeful smile to chilly stone as it locked in their hands.

“So what?” she growled.

“You stubborn little shite. Let go of the bottle before I toss yer sorry arse off this roof.”

“Do it then,” she dared. “I’d deserve it right?”

Cait wanted to scream in her face, but the reasonable part of her, which was only unburied last month after years of festering, was pleading with her not to.

She understood. She’d been here before, she’d been lost in the dark with just a bottle and total apathy to keep her company. Wanting to forget, wanting to give up.

“I get it,” she growled, trying to keep her tone level. “You don’t wanna think about it anymore, right?”

Piper went still, eyes bloodshot, lips pursed. Cait used the bottle between them to get closer. Carefully, she mimicked a motion that someone ( _that_ someone) had used on her before. She rested her opposite hand against the side of Piper’s neck, anchoring her to reality.

“It hurts, right? Like a knife in the gut you can’t pull out.”

Piper’s lips cracked open for a moment, then shut again.

Cait pulled closer again, hoping to coax her out of her angst. Instead, Piper snapped and careened backwards out of her grasp, letting go of the bottle. Her ankle slipped against the slick concrete, sending her colliding with the ground with a sick thud.

The redhead hurried to restrain her before she could hurt herself more, landing heavily with either leg across her waist. Piper thrashed, tears streaking over her face.

Cait grabbed at her wrists; even with all of her drunk energy, the cage fighter was far stronger than her. Frustrated and angry, Piper settled for kicking her bent knees into her back.

“It wasn’t your fault,” she said, surprising herself with her words. It was all she could think to say.

Piper shook her head, hair wild and hat lost behind them.

“It wasn’t your fault,” she said again, lower, gentler.

The girl beneath her let out an agonized, protesting shout.

“I saw it!” she screamed, body still fighting to get up. “I saw it, and I didn’t-!”

“It wasn’t your fault. You couldn’t have done anything.”

She cried out with pure anguish, limbs going slack in Cait’s grip. She let go of her wrists and her hands immediately flew to cover her face as painful sobs overwhelmed her. She shook through wave after wave, each more jarring than the last, as the truth of matters finally bubbled to the surface.

Cait held her as raw, carnal grief swept over her.

She whispered against her hair. “Yer gonna be alright. It’s gonna be alright, luv.”

No one understood this more than Cait. As different as they were, the black void of guilt was a common thread.

Being kind, being a rock, for once, made Cait feel terribly human. Recovery was fucking rough, but they had all gotten her there. They hadn’t given up on her. She’d be damned if she was going to watch Piper sink deeper into that familiar pit alone. 

The arm around Piper’s shoulders was starting to fall asleep by the time the reporter calmed down enough to stop shaking. Cait kept her close, leaning back on her knees so she wasn’t restricting her lower body anymore.

The closeness felt odd, the same sort of odd as her first day without cravings. Old sensations dressed and cleaned as if they were brand new; the smell of morning chill, the homey feeling of rain against windows. Piper’s hand rested against her chest and it felt alien to receive physical contact without the haze of psycho driving her actions.

“Sorry,” she croaked, voice cracked with exertion.

“Don’t be.” Her voice was still soft and Cait felt like she had no control over it. Or, maybe it was the opposite, maybe she _wanted_ to be soft and she finally had a choice in the matter. “Don’t have to apologize for bein’ in pain.”

Piper leaned back to wipe her eyes against her gloved palms. Cait was struck with a sudden sense of intimacy; she looked embarrassed and weak and the fighter was pierced with awareness again by their proximity.

She’d been in similar situations, but out of genuine concern? She was sick with herself realizing that every other time she could remember, she had been trying to get something out of the other person. Chems, caps, escape, something, always something, so much so that her brain felt wired to react in ways that now disgusted her.

She thought of taking Piper’s face in her hands and kissing her. The wetness of their mouths, of her tears, how she would take it. Would she fall into her out of grief? Would she push her away, scream at her?

Piper leaned against her again instead of pulling further away and Cait reflexively decided that she could do whatever she wanted to her at this moment and the other woman wouldn’t fight her on it. She was drunk and miserable; those two together were easy to exploit.

The alcohol was already proof that she was trying to forget, to distract herself from what she’d seen. Nora’s death wasn’t her fault, but she had been there, she saw the light go out in her eyes. Cait knew what that felt like, seeing death hurtling towards your friend and not being fast or strong or smart enough to stop it.

Every thought was guilt, of that moment playing over and over. Every thought made you want to drink, to shoot something into your veins, to fuck, to go to sleep and never wake up. Anything for a distraction, for escape. Piper was tumbling head-first through that tornado.

The acute burn of lips against her neck wasn’t a surprise. Cait sat still as Piper pressed forward timidly, tears trailing cold spots against her skin. It was something to reach out for, a warm body, a sliver of pleasure inside of the agony.

Cait bit into her own cheek as a shameful rush of heat flushed through her as a second, quivering kiss pressed her pulse point. She should take her home now. Help her off the roof, bring her to bed, tell her to sleep it off. That’s what a good person would do, right?

Piper’s motions were all halted and stuttering; she was either afraid of her own impulses or just so drunk that she didn’t know what she was doing. It was obvious that she wasn’t used to being compromised like this.

“Piper,” Cait said, swallowing her own arousal. “Darlin’, you’re drunk.”

“I don’t care,” she murmured. Another kiss, still shy, still shaking, against her jaw.

Cait forced herself to stiffen; if she was better, she’d had pushed her away completely.

“I know what yer feelin’, but-“

She pushed her by the shoulders and Cait tumbled onto her back, the concrete of the roof scraping her. Piper mounted her fast, faster than any of her previous motions had been; she’d hit a nerve, she was trying to rush her relief. Cait would feel used if she wasn’t so familiar with it all, from both sides.

The nighttime bustle of Diamond City below did little to pull her out of her haziness.

The reporter leaned over her with a hand perched on either side of her head, eyes glazed from booze and tears. The motion made her sway dizzily; Cait reached up and caught her waist to stop her from falling. Piper groaned softly at the contact.

The fighter doubted this was happening because Piper had feelings for her. Who the fuck on Earth would. She was trash, a junkie, an asshole, and Piper? She was a shit starter, sure, but she was a good person all the same. She’d never fight for fun, or shoot up, or take advantage of a friend.

Piper dipped down. Cait opened her mouth; maybe she’d intended to resist. Maybe she could tell herself that to make her feel better about this.

Her lips were hot and swollen from crying. She tasted like Bobrov’s, her body was already moving against her, willing, and Cait lost herself in it. She’d watched Piper before, daydreamed about her, flirted with her just to see her get flustered and tell her off. She would’ve been happy to oblige her on the best day, a friendly roll around, to get the privilege of seeing her snarky attitude fall into pretty submission.

The image of Piper’s sober scowl snapped something in her. With steady fingers she took Piper’s face and brought her just a breath away.

“I could fuck you,” she said, the softness of her tone clashing with her vulgar words. Piper went rigid in her grasp, like reality ran cold fingers over her for a moment. “I’d make you feel good, you’d forget for a night.”

Piper didn’t pull away, Cait didn’t move her hands off of her.

She wanted her bad. Self-hate and lust knotted together in Cait’s lower belly. She wanted to give in.

But this wasn’t about her.

“You’d wake up tomorrow feelin’ like scum,” she muttered.

“I don’t care,” she said again, voice pulling.

“I know you don’t. Not right now, but you will,” Cait answered, keeping her voice gentle.

Piper let out a laugh that sounded too much like a sob. The pain in Cait’s chest surprised her.

“You hate me that much, huh?”

They'd been pretty infamous for not getting along when Cait was still addicted. Piper would chastise her for doing something shitty, Cait would laugh in her face, call her uptight, tell her that she needed a lay and happily volunteer for it. The redhead had found her constant championing around her own morality annoying and naive; what kind of idiot thought the world gave a shit about injustice, about missing people or corrupt mayors or whatever it was she was worked up about today? Cait definitely didn't; why should she have, when no one had ever bothered to help _her?_

The clarity of a clean mind made her realize how flimsy those excuses were. People _had_ cared about her enough to help her, and Piper had been one of them. Despite the nasty words, the butting heads, the arguing, she'd still helped, and the ex-raider didn't feel worthy of that. It made every thought she'd had over Piper invalid, no words required. 

Cait still saw herself as trash, inside. But that wasn't today's problem.

Their relationship was still tenuous; no longer hostile, but definitely not close enough that this position was born from anything other than Piper's drunkenness.

There was pain in her features. Cait wanted to rip it away. This was too close to home, too much like her own feelings. She kept Piper's face in her hands.

“Course I don’t hate you. You’re my friend, Piper. But you’re drunk, and I tryin’ to do right by you. Alright?”

Piper bit her lips together and sniffled. After a long moment, she leaned back. Cait followed her as she sat up in her lap.

She looked embarrassed again.

“God, I’m an idiot.”

“Nah, the Bobrov’s doin’ the hard work for you.”

“Sorry. Fuck. I’m an asshole. I really shouldn’t have done that.”

Cait tipped Piper’s chin. She blushed hard at the contact.

“Ask me when yer sober, darlin’. Lord knows I wouldn’t turn you down.”

She couldn't resist. And the reporter couldn’t get redder if she tried. It was kind of cute; Cait stored the image away in her head.

After a short while, Cait moved to stand. Piper swayed, tried to pick up her hat, and almost ate shit; the redhead laughed and grabbed it for her, slinging her arm over her shoulders as they walked to the trapdoor leading down into Piper’s house.

She helped the other woman down the ladder, led her to her bed. Piper sat, absently tugged on the collar of Cait’s corset, bleary eyed. Cheeks still dusted red, she pulled her down into another kiss. The feeling of a mattress beneath them sent a shock of adrenaline through her that was horrifically hard to resist.

Begging her own body to just let her be a good person _for once,_ she separated them again. Piper, realizing what she’d done, covered her face with her hands.

Cait forced out a chuckle to play it off.

“As much as I like you havin’ a little less self-control, I ought to get out of here ‘fore something bad happens, yeah?”

She was still caught off guard by how gentle her own voice was. She was trying not to freak Piper out, the girl wasn’t built for drunk snogging and it wouldn’t do to humiliate her by accident with a response that was too strong. Again, really, she didn’t think she had the capacity to care.

Maybe getting clean had changed her more than she thought. Or maybe it was just the relatability of the situation.

Piper’s eyes flicked down to Cait’s lips and lingered, brow bent. Her hand was still slotted under the hem of Cait’s top.

“I,” she started, shuddering, “I’m, I don’t want to be _alone_.”

Alone with her thoughts, alone with her pain. The tight feeling in Cait’s chest twisted up again.

“Alright,” she murmured. “I’ll stay with ya until you’re asleep, yeah?”

Relief flowed out of her with a sigh and a nod. Cait dropped to her knees next to the bed and leaned her head against her crossed arms. Piper kicked off her shoes, laid down, reached out. Cait caught her hand and squeezed it.

She was asleep in a matter of minutes. After an hour, Cait left. Wouldn’t do her good to wake up to her mug in the morning. Hopefully the Bobrovs had a free room. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hadn't intended a second chapter, it just kind of happened while I was warming up for a commission. So here you go.

It had been a quiet couple of days, heading through Boston. Some of it made sense, the streets of the old city had pockets of Super Mutant and Raider activity, areas where only a complete idiot would settle in for a chat.

Other times though, it felt forced. Wrong. They weren’t the best of friends, but surely they could manage a couple minutes of friendly conversation if not just to keep themselves from going fuckin’ mad with boredom and anxiety.

Normally, Cait might prod the reporter with teases. But in light of their last talkative encounter, that might not be a great idea.

Lord, why did she even give so much of a fuck whether or not Piper was comfortable? World ain’t comfortable, is it? Why should she be?

The fighting in her head that broke out every time the new, clean part of her brain said something was driving her nuts. Shite was simpler when she could just shoot up and pass the day high out of her mind, not caring who or what caught the south end of her mouth or fists. Now she had to worry about the intricacies of people’s feelings and all that bullshit, now the guilt was heavier than the adrenaline rush.

Annoying. Stupid. Shit world making her feel like shit. And now she was walking through Boston in teeth-grinding silence because the girl she’s with might be uncomfortable if she said anything. When she’s the one that kissed her, no less! Isn’t that clearance enough for Cait to be the angry one?

Was she angry about that, though?

No, she wasn’t, not when she went through that night in her head. Piper kissed her, completely piss-drunk, said ‘sorry’ about a thousand fuckin’ times, kissed her again, and fell asleep. Cait was the asshole that could have stopped it before it happened, saw it coming, gave in too much. Piper was the vulnerable one. Which meant Cait was the asshole.

Back to it being her fault. This was the kind of bullshit circle-y thinking that made her drink-

“Uh. Hey.”

Cait stopped in her tracks, surprised by the intrusion, and turned on her heel to the other woman behind her.

Piper looked surprised at how fast she’d spun around. Did she already do something wrong? Miss another sign?

“Whatcha need?” Cait said, deliberately talking over the new train of thought.

The reporter twisted her gloved hands in front of herself for a moment. It was strange to see her act like that; Piper’s number one personality trait was being in your face with whatever she had to say, after all. Why did she look so nervous? And why all the silence?

“I, uh.” She cleared her throat. “I just wanted to say…something.”

Cait narrowed her eyes at her. Is this more social language she was meant to understand? What’s with the stalling?

“Out with it, then.” She couldn’t keep the impatience out of her voice. Whatever this energy was between them, it was making her itchy.

Piper took in a deep breath and exhaled through her nose.

“Right. I wanted to say, thanks. And, uh. Sorry. For the other night. It was really stupid of me to…to put you in that situation and I’m just, really embarrassed over the whole thing and I guess I’m hoping I can convince you to just, uh, forget it ever happened?”

Ah, so that was it.

“Forget?” Cait perched her hands on her hips. “About which part? When you nearly fell off the roof, or when you tried to seduce me?”

Her face went dark red, even redder than it was that night. Only time she’d ever seen a sober Piper this flustered was when she met Miss Magnolia for the first time.

“All.” She gestured sheepishly with her hands. “All of it.”

Cait scrutinized her for a moment. Something is her guts kind of hurt over that response, but why?

“That’s why you’ve been quiet this whole time?” That pain seeped into her tone, sharpening her words. “Over a drunken snog on the roof?”

Piper, still red as a rotten tarberry, suddenly looked indignant.

“Hey, I’m trying to apologize. I’m not used to getting blindingly drunk and doing stupid shit like that, okay?”

Stupid shit? That stung even worse, what the fuck was wrong with her? Why did she care what Piper thought about any of it? And she was right, it was ‘stupid shit’! Why did her chest burn when she said it, though?

“As opposed to someone like me, who _is_ used to that kind of thing?”

Piper gave her a confused, almost desperate look.

“No, that’s not what I’m trying to say at all.”

 _She knows I’m the asshole!_ The voices in her head were so loud she felt them in her ears. _This sober shit is just a fucking joke, this sympathetic friend shit is a joke, she knows I kissed her back, she knows I could have stopped all of it before it started, she knows I’m a piece of shit-_

“Cait?”

Her eyes shot back up to Piper before she even realized she had been staring at the ground for who knows how long. She was closer now. Why was she closer?

“I’m sorry,” she said, softer this time. It made the voices quiet. “I’m sorry that I…that I tried to use you and that I put you in an awful situation. That wasn’t fair to you, and I’ve been trying to think of a way to say it since we left Diamond City, you’ve been doing so good these last couple of months and I-“

Piper's eyes were welling up. What the hell was going on?

“And I almost completely fucked that up for you. I got caught up in my own shit and I, I brought booze around you and I got _wasted_ like a selfish goddamn _asshole_ -”

She was crying through her words, trying and failing to keep her voice level, and Cait was only more baffled by what she was saying.

“Whoa, hey. Jesus, Piper, take a breath.” She put her hands in front of herself, trying to show that she wasn’t angry, or cross, or whatever the fuck Piper thought was going on right now because Cait sure as hell didn’t have a clue.

“Sorry,” she said, wiping her cheeks with the heel of her gloved palm. “Sorry! Goddamn it, I didn’t mean to start crying again. I just feel like a fucking _asshole_. Because I _am_ one! I’m a big, stupid asshole and I’m a _fucking awful_ friend-”

Jesus, this girl swore even worse than Cait when she was worked up. The ridiculousness of her words combined with Cait’s own prolonged inner monologue was mixing into some kind of twisted humor in her stomach, causing a flutter of laughter to rattle her throat.

“Piper, holy shite, slow down.” Cait moved close enough to reach out a hand and brace it against Piper’s shoulder and, despite herself, felt a chuckle cross her lips.

Piper stopped in the middle of wiping her face to look up at her with surprise, only for her own mouth to split into a grin that mirrored Cait’s.

“No, stop. Why are you laughing at me?” she rasped, covering her mouth as if shocked by her own reaction. “Why are you laughing, this is serious!”

“Cos you’re acting like a fuckin’ nut!” Cait guffawed. Piper froze for a moment before letting out a betraying, hoarse laugh in return.

“Am I?” she exclaimed, smiling lopsidedly through her tears.

“Yeah, and I haven’t got a damn clue what you’re blabbering about!”

“ _Oh god_ -“ Piper took the single step forward she needed to close the distance between them, laughing harder now.

“I thought you hated me,” Piper said through both tears and laughter. “Oh my god, I really thought I fucked up. I _did_ really fuck up-“

“Christ Wright, if you drop one more _‘fuck’_ I think you’re gonna be obligated to join the next Raider camp we find.”

She laughed again, burying her face in the crooked of Cait’s neck.

“God, I’ve cried more in the last two days than I have in my whole life. What the hell is wrong with me?”

After a few moments, Cait drew her into a more tentative hug, one that Piper returned with more vigor than she expected. The air went quiet between them.

“Two months,” Piper rasped, voice raw. “Two months, not two days.”

“I know, darlin’.” Cait rubbed her back gently. “And you feel like an asshole no matter what you’re doin’, right? Laughing, crying, doesn’t matter.”

She felt Piper nod against her collarbone.

“It hurts so bad that thinking about it makes you wanna puke.”

She felt small. Shaking. Nora and Piper hadn't been _together,_ but they had been friends. Good friends. Close enough that the memory of her death was probably burned into Piper's mind forever.

Last time Cait had been like this, her ‘friends’ had taken advantage of her. Shaken her down, used her. Turned her misery into their own fun. The impulsive image of those same fuckers doing what they’d done to her to Piper turned her mouth sour; her grip tightened on the girl in her arms. She knew this feeling, this sickness, how lost you could get with no anchor, how fast the fall was.

She hadn’t had anything back then. No one helped her swim.

On the chems, she wanted to watch people drown too. She liked the high of satisfaction she got from knowing everyone was just as miserable as her. She saw a version of herself laughing at Piper, giving her psycho to ‘take the edge off’, appreciating how pretty she looked as she fell down to her level, crashing into the concrete of her own misery.

“Piper,” she murmured, reflexes sharpened by her self-hatred. She moved slightly in her arms. Cait felt her own fingers tighten into fists. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t,” Piper suddenly demanded, moving away to clasp Cait’s shoulders in her hands. “Nothing that happened that night was your fault. Okay? You…you took care of me. I was acting like a complete idiot and you looked out for me. You shouldn’t apologize.”

Cait felt a coolness settle on her features.

“I was a piece of shite when I was on Psycho, Piper.”

She was caught off guard by her statement, stunned to silence. Cait took the opportunity to say what had been haunting her since she’d gone sober.

“I know I was. I had to be, to survive through what I did. When you and Nora first came through the front door of the Combat Zone, I was a complete shitehead. I was ruined, I didn’t care if I died that day or the next, just as long as I had a fix to get me there. Maybe I…I wasn’t even alive. Maybe I hadn’t been alive for a long time.”

She took a breath. Thought. Piper had stopped all the rushing around in her head, how’d she do that so easy?

“I think that maybe…maybe doing it alone was why it got so goddamn bad for me. Why the pain never stopped. Why the chems and the booze seemed to be the only things that took the pain away. And on the roof that night, I’d be lying if I didn’t think about using you the way I’ve done to others in the past. The way I’d been used.”

Piper bit her lips together, pain crossing her face.

“The way I almost did.”

Cait laughed dryly. “Sweetheart, nothing that you coulda done to me would’ve come close to the kindsa shite I’ve been through.”

“It was still wrong,” Piper held, eyes steely. “And you did the right thing, Cait. Damn the past, okay? Today’s Cait did the right thing, and tomorrow you can do it again. All that matters is what you do right now.”

Cait met her gaze and was surprised by the strength her eyes.

“You really believe that?”

“You know I’m no good at ‘pleasant lies’ by now, right?”

She snorted at that. She sure as fuck wasn’t, that was what got her kicked out of Diamond City once a week.

“I used to fuckin’ hate that about you, ya know. That bleedin’ heart, _‘trust ‘em til they hit ya_ ’ attitude. Drove me up the wall. Always thought it was a good way to get yourself stabbed in the back.” She laughed out loud again. Goddammit, this whole day had been a rollercoaster.

Piper quirked her brow and tilted her head, smugness touching her eyes.

“Funny you say that, considering that’s what I had to force myself to think every time _you_ pissed me off.”

Cait stopped at that, like something clicked in her head.

“Holy shite, that’s true isn’t it?”

“You never hit me, so. Well, you hit _on_ me, but I can deal with that.” 

“Cute, bringin’ that up now.”

“Yeah. You were kind of an asshole. But, like I said, while I was blubbering, you’ve been…good these last couple months.” Her face was soft, her hands relaxing on her shoulders and sliding over her biceps. “Real good. I feel like you have my back, and I guess I just want you to know that I can see it, you know? That you’re trying. I can’t imagine that it was easy.”

It hadn’t been. Weeks of cravings, of the night sweats. That damn chair had cleaned her blood, but her body was still used to a certain routine. Regular detox would’ve been worse, probably would have killed her, but that didn’t mean it didn’t still suck.

It felt nice, though. For it to be acknowledged. To know that even goody-two-shoes Piper Wright thought she was…good.

She had wanted to give up so many times. Not just because the world was shit, but because _she_ was shit, her insides were all shit, nothing left of a person, nothing that could still be worth saving. 

“Thanks, Piper.” Her voice sounded way too small, too vulnerable.

“Anytime, Cait.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know if continuing this interests you.


End file.
